


Farewell the AshTray Girl

by Saral_Hylor



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/F, Friendship/Love, No Dialogue, POV First Person, Romance, Slow Burn, repost from fictionpress.com, teenage characters 17-18 years old
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-10 13:27:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2026776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saral_Hylor/pseuds/Saral_Hylor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To try to tell her story is pointless, for I never knew all of it myself. <br/>Instead, there is our story. Short as it may be; sometimes it seemed far longer, sometimes much shorter.<br/>I remember the first day I met her. I remember the way she was so different from everybody else in my safe little world. I remember the friendship, and the way she led me to test the boundaries that kept me safe. <br/>I remember the good times, and the bad. The smiles, the laughter, the tears, the denial, the acceptance. The change. <br/>I remember it all. Just as I will always remember her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted of fictionpress.com
> 
> unbeta'd.

I can remember the first time I saw her. She was standing in the doorway of a grungy looking club downtown, one hand tucked in the pocket of her jeans, the other hanging by her side. A cigarette hung out the corner of her mouth, and it made me instantly think of James Dean. Her hair was cropped short, and at first I thought she was actually just another man standing there, peering out through the night at me, but the swell of her breasts which pulled tightly at the black tank top she wore told me otherwise.

I remember not being able to take my eyes off of her, and I actually stopped walking in order to stare at her.

A hand reached up to pluck the cigarette from her lips, and she growled at me, glaring out from the shadows, demanding to know what I was staring at.

It scared me, and I snapped my attention away from her, shaking my head slowly, before hurrying off up the street. I didn’t want to seem rude, but there had been something about her, that, for just a little while, had made it almost impossible for me to take my eyes off of her.

I can remember that as I hurried down that street, I had heard footsteps behind me. I was sure it was her, but I didn’t dare look behind me. I don’t know if I was scared or not that it was her. At least if it was her, I knew who it was.

I didn’t stop until she called out to me, calling me a little girl. I was almost mad at her for that, but it didn’t last long as I stopped and turned around to face her. She was closer behind me that I had realised, and she stood there, cigarette hanging back out of her mouth as she looked me over.

I remember the nervous tingle that went through my body at that point. I shivered slightly, which caused her to raise an eyebrow.

She asked if I was cold, as though she was genuinely concerned, but then she shook her head, and said that it wasn’t because I was cold, but because I was scared of her.

I wanted to shake my head and tell her that wasn’t the case, but I didn’t know what to say instead. So I said nothing, just stood there quietly, staring at her.

She smirked sightly at my silence, and plucking her cigarette from her mouth again, she dropped it to the footpath and ground it into the cement with the toe of her boot. Looking me over again, she cocked her head to one side and demanded lightly to know why I had been staring at her earlier.

I could only shrug. I didn’t know why I had, and I couldn’t think of how to explain that. I shook my head slowly, dropping my eyes away from her.

She asked if I could talk, laughing a little when I looked up in surprise. When I nodded, she asked why I wasn’t, and to that I just shrugged. She smile slightly, and reached a hand out to touch my cheek. Her smile turned into a smirk as I jumped, and she raised an eyebrow.

She asked what my name was, and I told her. She repeated my name softly under her breath, sounding it out slowly, pronouncing each syllable separately. Isabella.

I smile slightly at the sound of that. I liked the way she said it. She held out her hand, but offered me no name. I placed my hand in hers gently, expecting her to shake it, but it became more of a tight squeeze than a shake. She said it was nice to meet me. And I replied that it was nice to meet her too.

There was a flicker of a smile that crossed her face at that moment, as she withdrew her hand from mine, tucking it in her pocket.

I remember standing there for a while, just shifting from foot to foot, our gaze flickering around, settling on each other every few seconds without saying anything. She finally broke the silence by asking me if I had pen. I nodded, digging into my shoulder bag the see if I could find it.

When I found it, I held it out to her. But she shook her head, and held her hand out, asking for my phone number. I hesitated slightly, feeling my heart pounding against my chest. My parents had always told me to never give my number away, especially if I didn’t know the person. And I didn’t even know her name.

I don’t know what it was, but there was something about her that stopped me from thinking about it too much, and after a slight moment’s hesitation, I carefully wrote my phone number out on the back of her hand.

There was another flicker of a smile from her, as she studied the number. She asked if it would be alright to call me. And I nodded, not really sure why I did. I probably shouldn’t have, but now I don’t regret it.

After another moment’s silence, she twisted slightly where she stood, and said that she’d better get going. I nodded slowly, and whispered a goodbye. She gave a short nod and turned, walking away from me.

When she had strolled about ten paces down the street, I called out to her, asking for her name. She stopped, turned and smiled at me. Calling back, she said her name was Brianne, but she preferred being called Brian. Like the singer from her favourite band.

With that, she turned, and continued walking. I stood there, watching her go, whispering her name under my breath. I thought to myself that I’d have to ask her who her favourite band was, next time I saw her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd take the gamble and post another chapter. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to [mage](http://archiveofourown.org/users/3White_Mage3/pseuds/3White_Mage3) and [Jeniouis](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeniouis) for the comments and support.

I remember the first time I heard from her. It was about a week after I had first seen her, when she rang me, at five o’clock in the morning. She didn’t seem to realise what the time was, and cut to the point shortly after I had said a sleepy good morning. She asked if I’d like to meet her for breakfast.

I had rubbed my eyes then, trying to figure out what was happening, but I murmured a yes. She said thank you, and told me where to meet her, before a quick goodbye, and she promptly hung up.

I stumbled out of bed after that, and forced myself through a cold shower to wake myself up. After spending a few minutes trying to figure out what to wear, I was dressed, in a long sleeved purple top, and pair of faded jeans.

I remember calling out to my mother, who was in the kitchen, as I left, saying that I was meeting a friend for breakfast, and that I’d be back later.

When I got to the café Brian had told me about, I found her outside, leaning against the wall, a cigarette hanging out the corner of her mouth. She wore the same clothes as the day before, except there was an additional white long sleeved button up shirt over top of the singlet, only the bottom two buttons done up.

She dropped her cigarette to the ground as I got there, and while stomping it out, she pulled me into a quick hug. It caught me by surprise, that I only had time to begin returning it, before she’d let go of my again.

I remember how she grinned at me, and told me the stupid place wasn’t open yet, pointing to the café next to us, shrugging slightly as she said it. I was about to remind her that it was, after all, still before six in the morning, when she reached out and touched my arm, asking me if I minded going for a walk for a while before breakfast.

I nodded, giving her a small smile. We didn’t talk much as we walked along the empty street. It seemed weird, being outside when the rest of the world seemed to be still sleeping. But it was nice in the way. Almost like we were the only two people in the world at that point in time.

We walked together, our pace not fast, and not slow. It was a little too quick to be classed a leisurely, but it was a comfortable pace set by both of us. I can remember looking at her as we walked, and trying to hide it. I would glance at her out of the corner of my eye, then slowly turn my head. But when ever I did, she’d flick her eyes over to me, and my gaze would snap back to the path in front of us. When I did get a chance to look at her, I could remember studying her carefully. Taking in the way her short black hair would flick out slightly at the sides, how her hand would tuck casually in her pocket, and how, when ever she did smoke, she’d let it hang out the corner of her mouth. It seemed so un-ladylike that it surprised me to see her doing it. But then there was a lot about her that surprised me.

I can remember that while we were walking, she asked me a few questions. What was I doing? Did I have a job? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tell her that no, I didn’t have a job, it made me feel almost lazy, or immature. I did tell her though, after a moment of hesitation, and she had asked me why. I’d blushed then, it made me feel really young telling her that I was still in school, and that mum and dad hadn’t liked the idea of me studying and working at the same time. She smiled slightly in response to this, nodding slowly.

I didn’t say anything after that, I was too busy trying to figure out what I wanted to ask her. There was a lot that I wanted to ask her about, like what she did, but I didn’t have to guts to.

I remember how we walked in silence for a while, neither of us coming up with anything else to say. We walked until cars started to become more frequent along the roads, and other people started to appear around us. We walked until my stomach started growling, and we realised how far away from our original café we had gotten.

Brian laughed slightly when she said we’d have to find somewhere else to go, but that it was a pity we couldn’t go where she’d intended. She said it was a really nice place. When I mentioned that I’d never been to that café before, she smiled, saying she’d have to take me there another time. I blushed when she said that, but smiled and nodded. I liked her, even though I’d only just met her. She was just so different.

Over breakfast, we talked more. About ourselves, about other trivial things. We talked about what we thought of different things that were happening in the world. After that, we moved on to watching the other people in the café, and trying to guess who they were, and what they did. It was fun doing that. Especially when Brian decided that the waitress was having a secret affair, not only with the thirty something year old man who sat in the back corner, who she talked to a lot when she served him, but also with another member of the staff. When Brian said it was one of the other waitresses I blushed, asking if she meant another female.

She’d looked at me then, taking her attention away from the waitress, her eyes held something I didn’t quite understand, and it scared me at the time. I thought she was mad at me, at first, but then she sighed heavily, smiling slightly. She told me that, yes, she did mean another female, because it did happen.

I’d blushed again at that, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know how to respond to that. Instead I stayed quiet, turning my attention back to the waitress. I wondered about what Brian had said, trying to picture two girls being together the way I’d seen other couples together. Holding hands, arms around each other, looking at each other lovingly, the way my parents did occasionally. The images didn’t really seem to work, at the time, it was almost weird, trying to picture it, because I’d never seen it before.

I had a feeling someone was watching me, and I looked over at Brian, finding her eyes on me. I smiled at her slightly, a bit cautious of the look on her face. I couldn’t really place it, but it set me slightly on edge.

The look disappeared almost as soon as I looked at her, and she smiled back at me. She asked me if what she’d said had upset me, and I shook my head, saying that it was just a little different. She nodded at that, saying that sometimes things were different, but that if everything was the same it would be boring.

I remember realising the time then, and almost panicking. It was past eleven, and I knew my mum was going to be worrying about me. I told Brian this, and said that I’d better go. She nodded, raising from her seat as I did, offering to walk me home. I’d thought about it for a while, but then realised it would only raise questions from my mum and dad. After shaking my head, I said a hurried goodbye to her, not quite sure what sort of surprise goodbye I’d get from her if I lingered a little longer. I’d walked away then, giving her a brief wave over my shoulder as I went. I felt bad enough for leaving in such a hurried manner, but even worse for seeing the shocked and sad look on her face as I left.


	3. Chapter 3

It was another week before I heard from her again. In that time, I’d moved aimlessly through the days at school, not knowing what to do, or what I had done. I didn’t know if she had tried calling while I was at school, or if she hadn’t wanted to talk to me at all.

But then, in a similar fashion to how it had been the week before, my phone rang at five in the morning, startling me out of a dream, its contents pushed to the back of my mind until later. I was quick to answer the phone, knowing that it would only be Brian at such an hour of the morning. When I answered, I gave her little time to say hello or state that it actually was her, before I’d burst into a string of apologies. I said I was sorry for upsetting her that day, for not letting her walk me home, and for leaving so quickly. I stumbled over trying to explain why I’d left in a rush, but her laughter cut me out.

I was surprised that she’d laugh at me, and I was stunned into silence. She took advantage of that, and while I was still trying to get over being laughed at, she’d gone on assuring me that it was okay. She told me not to worry about it, and that although she’d been a little hurt when I’d gone, she was too proud to admit that. I had thought it weird, her saying that, even as she admitted it, but I let it go, as I was drawn into another conversation.

I remember how we talked for over an hour and a half, before I had told her that I had to go, and start getting ready for school. She sounded a little disappointed as she said she’d better let me go, and there was a slight pause before she hurriedly asked me if I minded her attention at all. When I replied that, no, I didn’t mind, and that I liked talking to her, I heard her give a relieved sigh.

As we started to say goodbye, something dawned on me. I hurriedly asked her who her favourite band was. There was a pause at the other end, before she laughed, telling me that I’d have to work it out. She’d play some of their music to me one day, and I could know then. I wanted to press the point, but my mother pounded on the door then, telling me to get up.

We said goodbye then, and she said she’d ring again sometime soon. I promised to pick up the phone. Somehow I already knew that I would. I would pick up the phone every time she rang.


End file.
